


beloved

by yana69



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, FUCK!!!!!!!, NO kissing zone, virgin zone, we rareparing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 18:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yana69/pseuds/yana69
Summary: and then they met again





	beloved

The only thing that could overcome Linhardt’s perpetual fatigue was his egotistical hunger for knowledge. But even that was carried away by the sleepy warmth of the library, and the young man closed his eyes for a couple of hours.

To be honest, however, almost everything written above was a lie. Or unspoken, if you will. His weariness was melting away each time one special maiden, highly devoted to a goddess, cautiously prowled in his field of view (and sometimes thoughts). Linhardt didn’t deny this fact, but also considered it of less importance, so he was not even a bit surprised that his dream ended after only 2 hours because Marianne took a seat in front of him. Frankly speaking, he would dive out of sleep even without his prominent interest in her. Just like her favourite animals, Marianne was scaredy-cattish and softly unapproachable. She would gladly approach the feeding hand just to dash away and hide a moment later. Those traits caused her independent decision to share a table with Linhardt to be quite special in his eyes.

For a couple of minutes he tried to pretend that he was still sleeping, just to enjoy the last bits of his rest and Mari’s presence. Then his curiosity took over and Linhardt played an act of awakening, full of yawns and stretches; his kind audience reacted by nervously vibrating on the spot.

"Oh, Marianne."

It looked like even an astounding amount of yawns couldn’t make the situation less shocking, Linhardt suppressed his smile.

"L-Linhardt! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up! I can leave immediately," dealt with panic, Marianne quickly turned back to her old anxiety-filled state that was so alien to the young man.

"Don’t bother. Your company is not unwelcome and you were not the one who woke me up," the lazily said lie calmed Marianne to a point where she could stop to open and close a book that was in front of her.

One time, the all-seeing Lorenz, paid attention to how closely Linhardt watched Marianne watering the flowers; hastened to approvingly note that the girl kept a lot of strong features inherent of her stern adoptive father under lock and key; their radiance, however, erupted and made her appear noble, even when she was trying to hide in inconspicuous corners. Linhardt didn’t take his words seriously at the time but now, after seeing Marianne curiously rustle pages of her book and emanate an aura of a wise scholar while also being a sleep-deprived, nervous student, he unwittingly remembered them.

The library became warmer and Linhardt made himself comfortable on his right arm.

"This book is about religion, right? Want a refresher?"

"Ah, this," Marianne averted her eyes with an embarrassed look. "I’m ashamed to admit it, but I realised that… “Used” would probably be the right word. Yes, I used the goddess. Linhardt, please, don’t laugh! I just don’t know anything about her, but made her listen to so many of my prayers. The least I can do, now that my mind is cleared, is read about her. To understand who she was."

"While your mind is cleared?" Linhardt said carefully. Marianne said more now, more than all the other days of the week combined, and looked like it would be really easy to trip her up on her own words.

"Yes! This," the young lady looked around her and then leaned forward; no one amongst them noticed his flared up cheeks, only because Linhardt, with one well executed move, placed his textbook in a way that blocked their faces. "Thanks to you. I’m not afraid of my Crest and, I think you’ll like this, the last couple of nights I slept without any nightmares."

"Is that so," he liked it indeed, one slightly disappointing part was that she surely saw a different joy in this. On the other hand, her point of view was way more logical, considering the fact that Marianne never accepted his awkward love confession. Linhardt was not upset; she just needed some time. In the end, she didn’t even accept herself yet, let alone anyone else. "And you smile more now. They say it’s a good sign."

"Is that so," she repeated with lowered voice.

"Well, it is a good sign to me."

Now it is her cheeks that flared up; Linhardt, guided by an unknown and uncontrollable force, fixed Marianne’s hair and his hand froze in place; he slowly curled a strand around his finger while the girl let him be this close. While she is not out of breath; while she doesn’t whisper something unintelligible and fast; while she doesn’t hide her bright red face in her hands, Linhardt caught a tender smile instead and smiled back.

*

Now, taking cover under a tree, Linhardt regrets that he didn’t do anything silly five years ago; for example, while remembering that cherished day in the library, he didn’t ask Marianne for a lock of her hair as a memento. That would surely be unpractical and wouldn’t gain him anything, but the thought that he could have possessed a medallion of anything that belonged to her, and yet didn’t, made him really annoyed - how could he have been so stupid?

For god’s sake, even a handkerchief would have been enough.

War - endless trials and errors, and all related to them. He pushes himself to a tree - not without a purpose - as an outing into the village led to an accidental skirmish with painfully familiar people, and the young man, who was an easy target for anyone with something even remotely close to a weapon, was forced into hiding. As soon as his allies bring the enemies into the forest, Linhardt will be able to be useful and cease to be such easy prey. But for now, he chooses to just admire nature.

Someone was smart enough to sneak up on him from the depths of the forest and Linhardt looks back at the sound of the footsteps; Excalibur shines on the tips of his fingers. The temperature drops remarkably and... this cold is familiar. It’s a weird feeling - the “familiar cold” - but Linhardt is sure in the origin of this spell.

"Mari?"

First, the sound of steps disappears, then an unnatural snap of cold gives way to regular coolness. It seems as though he hears a sob, but the subsequent euphoria drowns out all other sounds. Marianne is running to him.

She literally bumps into him, hugs him faster than he manages to hug her, and they freeze, hidden by a benevolent dusk.

"You became stronger."

"I’m kinda into spears now," she faintly laughs, making a bit of distance between them but not letting go. "I think I have a talent."

"Never doubted that Marianne the Great has thousands of aces up her sleeve."

"What are you even saying?" he feels like a boy, seeing her new smile. Now serious, Marianne puts her hands on his cheeks and looks into his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"The Black Eagles carry freedom on their wings," Linhardt tries not to look away. "Everything is fine. I think… I think we are fighting for the right cause."

"The Alliance is always more than ready to welcome you among its ranks."

"I can never hide from keen eyes; or everything will turn into even more unnecessary deaths," the young man presses her hot palm to his lips. Her fingers were once cold, trembling; now he can keep them, only because he was given permission to do so. "Even this meeting of ours, no matter how happy of a coincidence, may bring trouble."

"I will be asking the goddess for a blessing. For this war to end."

"My blessing is you. Promise me that you’ll stay alive until our next meeting, Mari. When we will obtain our freedom."

"And you swear too."

Voices are coming in from all sides, interrupting a dialogue that shouldn't have happened. Marianne looks at Linhardt’s back until a swirling wind blows her loose hair into her eyes; the ribbon supporting it left her with Linhardt. Sighing heavily, she turns to the magicians that obey her and gives brief instructions, worrying that he may only be sleeping too little.

**Author's Note:**

> I CALL THSI SHIP SLEEPING BEAST BECAUSE IM VERY SMART  
THAKNK YOU DAYA FOR IMPROVING THIS TRANSLATION I WILL NEVER LEARNT ENGLISH EVER


End file.
